


Gravediggers

by Unsentimentalf



Category: Robin Hood BBC
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-16
Updated: 2010-02-16
Packaged: 2017-10-07 07:37:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unsentimentalf/pseuds/Unsentimentalf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robin is bored with his destiny, and Guy is resigned to his. But there's still a grave needs digging.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gravediggers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hulamoth](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Hulamoth).



> Set straight after 3 x 9 "A Dangerous Deal". Written for Hulamoth as Haiti Fic.

He was bored with being Robin Hood.

He had always got bored easily. He'd gone to the Crusades because running the estate was dull. The Holy Land hadn't exactly been boring but the novelty had worn off pretty fast; he'd been glad enough to take the first decent opportunity to return home. Being England's most famous criminal had been enough, for a while. But now it seemed that he would hang around in the forest being Hood forever.

Everyone else got to leave. Will and Djaq. Marian (that small, angry voice said, "had got herself killed." She needn't have been that stupid. They'd have saved Richard somehow, some other way. She never thought before she acted. Never had.) Allan drifted to and fro across the battle-lines apparently at will. It was just him stuck here permanently, with all the fun gone out of it.

He didn't care any more about winning. You couldn't win against John, couldn't out think or out-plan a madman. Isabella, no doubt, thought her hot and cold act alluring, but until she decided whether to lift her skirts for him or see him hanged, Robin refused to take her seriously. Vaisey was dead. And bloody Gisborne was sitting in his sister's dungeon waiting to die. For some reason that last annoyed Robin most of all.

It should have been a good day for someone else to die. They were making their way into Nottingham to watch the execution of the man he'd once wanted dead more than he'd wanted anything else in his life. All he could think was that this wouldn't be the end of it. In a few hours Gisborne would be dead and Robin would still be trapped in Sherwood. Still bored.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Guy had been digging for some time, in the quiet spot he'd found beside the lake under the drooping willows. It was hard work; he was still weaker than he'd like to be from Nottingham's dungeon. The work was good for him, though; he need not think, just push the spade that he'd commandeered from a peasant's hut (along with a black bread lunch that was as good as a feast for a half starved man) into the ground, move the earth, over and over. This thing first, then he could worry about the rest of his life later.

Hood, of course, was the one to interrupt. That hateful, goading voice from high up the bank; he glanced up to see the man posing against the treeline. Too late to defend himself. Hood's bow was drawn.

"Another innocent dead because of you," Hood nodded at Meg's body, still lying against the tree where Guy had lowered it, after she'd died.

Guy considered this for a moment. "Yes," he agreed, flatly.

"Burying the evidence?"

"Burying a friend." Guy returned to digging.

"A friend?" Hood's tone set Guy's teeth on edge. He concentrated on the spade, up, down, scoop the soil, throw it aside, and up again.

"Did you tell her what happened to the last woman who befriended you?"

Guy had. He glanced up at the man, back to his work.

"Loose that arrow if you're going to. I've no interest in talking to you."

Hood snorted. "That's what you're after. You'd have knelt meekly to that axe, if it hadn't been for the girl."

"Her name was Meg." It was important to Guy, if not to the man he spoke to.

"And now you're waiting for me to finish the job. This death wish of yours is very unattractive, Gisborne."

The word caught Guy's attention. Unattractive. He lifted his head.

"What do you actually want, Locksley?"

"I want a bit of fucking appreciation. I want enemies who aren't falling apart under their own insanities. John, for God's sake. Isabella. You. I could just sit back and watch you all crumble without lifting a finger and where the hell is the bloody challenge in that?"

Guy shook his head, oddly chilled. He'd thought the outlaw had principles. "This is just a game to you."

"Of course it is. With lives at stake, but still a game. Vaisey knew that. John doesn't. Isabella doesn't. You were no more than a pawn of Vaisey's and now he's dead you're too busy indulging your guilt to make yourself into a player. Ever tried to play chess on your own, Gisborne? It's no damn fun."

Guy dug the spade into the hard earth again. This was going to take a long time. He wasn't in a hurry.

"I'm trying to decently bury the only person that I've come anywhere near actually liking in years, Hood. I am not going to indulge your desire to squabble till I'm done. Fuck off and sulk somewhere else."

The man dropped down onto his haunches on the sloping ground above Guy. "I'll wait."

Guy kept on digging. When he raised his head a few minutes later, resting his aching arms, Hood was gone.

He sighed, stretched, picked up the spade again, wincing at the tenderness in his hands that foretold blisters shortly. Firmly ignored the prickling between his shoulderblades. Hood wouldn't shoot him without another round of taunts and bizarre self-pitying complaints. Unfortunately.

He was barely a foot down when Hood returned, walking into the clearing by the lake with a grin and a second spade. The outlaw propped his bow and quiver against a tree, came forward. He was, Guy noted automatically, still wearing a sword. And a knife.

"I thought you were waiting."

"I get bored easily." Robin set to work at the other end of the shallow grave.

Guy didn't want him there, didn't want his help with this or anything. But he was not going to fight the man with Meg's body lying still a few yards away. He gritted his teeth and dug. Silence, for a long while.

"What do you intend to do next?" Hood was breathing hard. Digging wasn't what either of them were used to.

Guy had been trying not to think about the future, had been mostly failing since Hood turned up. "I'm going to kill some people."

"Predictable, I suppose, Subtlety was never your strong point. Starting with me?"

Guy laughed. "Not everything is about you, Robin Hood. You like to think you're the centre of the fucking world, but you're really not that important. Meg's death was Isabella's doing."

He glanced over, pleased to see Hood far from delighted at that little put down.

"So you're going after your sister. It will end with your head on the block again. She's got the soldiers, the power and the brains. You've got a spade."

A spadeful of earth accidentally flew in Hood's direction. Guy didn't bother with any other reply. He'd think of some way to bring down Isabella.

"Of course, I'm far from happy at having a Gisborne as Sheriff. I might get rid of her myself." Hood's tone was a little too casual to be convincing.

"I doubt that you could." Guy was cold. "You never got rid of Vaisey. I had to do that. I'll do this too."

"You won't get near her on your own." Hood had stopped digging, stood up, voice still light. "You need my help. Is this deep enough?"

They were facing each other in a hole a good 30 inches deep. "Get out. I'll finish this." Guy watched Hood nimbly pull himself up. He neatened the edge. It would do. He ignored Hood's untrustworthy hand to scrabble out with an uncomfortable lack of grace.

Meg looked dead, not sleeping. Guy cradled the body, lowered it down, let it drop the last few inches. He started shovelling loose earth to cover the sprawling, awkward corpse. When the body was covered in a layer of dirt, Hood came forward to help finish the job.

Both done, Hood leaned on his spade, grinning at Guy. "Well? Ready to ask for my assistance?"

The man was a fool. Guy's sword was out of the scabbard before his spade hit the ground, and he was backing the startled outlaw up against a tree.

"Leave it!" he snarled. Hood's hand dropped away from his sword hilt. Blade at his throat and the man's eyes were bright. What was wrong with the bastard?

Guy moved in closer, pulled Hood's sword free, threw it to one side. He reached across and down the man's body for the knife belted on the other side, stopped. Stared at Hood in disbelief.

"For Christ's sake, Hood, tell me your perversion's for the fucking sword at your throat. Not me."

A flash of something...shame? outrage? across the other man's face, then he controlled himself. Chin jutted out defiantly.

"Keep your fucking hands to yourself, Gisborne."

What had got the man aroused? Guy pulled the knife free with his left hand. Pricked the point, fairly gently, into Hood's distended crotch. "Come on, Locksley. Tell me what's on your mind."

"Sod off." The outlaw's usual humour had deserted him. His erection hadn't. Guy prodded again with the knife tip and Hood cursed, made a grab for his hand. The blade at the man's throat cut into his skin, not dangerously, this time, but enough to make him drop his hand again.

The bastard wasn't so cocky now. Guy had intended to kill him, tidy up one loose end before going after Isabella. He was still going to kill Hood, but he was surely owed a little payback first. He kept the sword tight against Hood's bleeding neck, slid the knife edge under the laces of the man's breeches, jerked hard upwards. The cord parted and Hood grabbed at the material to keep them up.

"Hands behind your back." Guy was starting to enjoy this.

"Gisborne." Hood's voice was a warning growl.

The sword tip pressed a little harder against the man's jugular. "Do it."

Hood gave him a murderous glare and let go.

Guy glanced downwards. "Fuck!" he said, with a certain amount of admiration. "Just who were you planning to screw with that, Hood?"

"Since you're so fascinated," Hood's voice dripped venom, "maybe I'll fuck you over. You've certainly been asking for it for long enough."

"This is for my benefit then?" Guy tapped the side of it with the flat of the knife and Hood hissed.

"I guess that chess isn't the only game that you don't want to play on your own. This more like your idea of fun, Locksley? My sword at your throat and your dick hanging out? Because I'm beginning to think it might be mine."

The sword blade twitched, a reminder. "Turn round."

He forced the man to strip his remaining clothes off, tied Hood's hands with the broken laces, turned him back. He'd have to kill the outlaw, after this.

"Now," he said, thoughtfully. "What should I do with you?"

Hood had regained some of his composure, despite his involuntary nakedness. "Been missing a man's cock, Gisborne, now Vaisey's dead? Beg me prettily and I might oblige. It will be a better screw than you're accustomed to, and all the use you are to anyone."

Guy laughed at that, genuinely amused. Stepped back, started unfastening his jacket.

"You talk a good fuck, Hood. Like everything else you do, I'm guessing the execution's not so impressive."

He'd done this before. A long while back, when women, respectable or otherwise, weren't interested in a penniless boy. When a moderately generous friend was often the difference between the two of them eating that night or not. It had been all right. He would have far rather be bedding a woman, but it was better than going either hungry or, he had supposed, celibate.

When his friend had switched his interest to the younger, still innocent Gisborne sibling, and to the convenience of pleasures taken inside a respectable marriage, Guy had bought himself a post and the favours of women with the man's coin and not thought of it again, until now. But he knew what he was about, and he was about to call Hood's bluff. Because he was pretty damn sure that the outlaw had never bedded a man.

Hood had fallen silent, trying to look unconcerned and failing. Blood was oozing slowly past the cut on his neck. That handsome erection of his was still standing proud. Guy stripped off the last of his clothes, revealing one just as hard. He did not, very definitely, lust after men in general or Hood in particular, but he didn't need to, for this. Physical attraction had nothing to do with what was about to happen. He picked up the knife again, smiled.

"Last fuck of your sorry, wasted life, Locksley. Think you're up for it?"

He walked forward, wrapped his free hand around the man's hot cock, feeling soft skin over the wooden solidity. He jerked a couple of times, watching the outlaw's eyes. Way out of his depth here, Robin Hood, but oh, so desperate for it. Not struggling, not protesting.

"Still bored?"

"What are we doing here?" Hood's voice had gone unusually quiet, with the slightest tang of helplessness.

Guy's smile widened. "You are going to afford me a little amusement as you struggle to make good on your boasts. Then I'm going to show you how a man does it. Maybe you'll die grateful. You'll certainly die more experienced."

"Untie me."

"No. I don't need your hands."

What did he need? Guy looked down again at the heat under his hand, resisted a sudden impulse to drop to his knees. Old instinct, and not one he had need of now. A memory of the sour taste of the prince's late night loyalty test made him wrinkle his nose. Screwing was cleaner.

Better make quite sure Hood was falling in line. "You can back out now, if you're not up to it. I'll just kill you instead."

"You want to be fucked, Gisborne, I'll do it." Robin's voice was harsh.

"Good." His hand moved up, around the outlaw's neck, and he pulled the man's mouth forward onto his. God, he was hard now. He pressed his body close against the other man's, feeling the cock hard against his stomach, his own sliding over warm skin as his hips moved. By the time Hood had recovered from his startlement enough for mouth or body to reciprocate, Guy was done with that.

"Get down on your knees."

A flare of anger. "I'm not doing that."

Guy snorted. "As if I'd trust my cock anywhere near your fucking teeth. You've got sod all balance with your hands tied, so we'll both be on our knees."

Reluctantly, carefully, Hood knelt. Guy squatted in front of him, stuck the knife into the dirt, spat on his hands. "I know you're new to this, but try not to come before we even start." He could hear the man's teeth grind, and then the sharp breaths whistling between them as his hands moved. His jibe was close enough; if he wanted just to humiliate the man it wouldn't take much of this before Hood would be twitching limp and messy in his fingers.

No. Let Hood make his pathetic try at satisfaction before Guy took his turn. He wanted to see the outlaw's attempt at fucking with no hands.

Guy kept one hand on the man's cock, swung his leg over and round until he was kneeling facing away with that hand between his own spread thighs. The other hand was braced on the ground in front of him as he eased the man's erection into the entrance to his own arse. Hood was pushing forwards, clumsy and desperate but with guidance he was at least going where he intended. Guy let his hand slide down the shaft as it jarred its way awkwardly forward until his fingers were wrapped around Hood's scrotum. He kept them there as Hood started to thrust.

He'd remembered this as tolerable. The pleasure surprised him. Hood clearly wanted to be vicious but with no way to brace himself the outlaw couldn't physically do it. Instead Guy stayed in control, hand tight around balls, hips moving to take the man at a pace and depth of his own choosing. Knowing Hood couldn't see his face, he let his eyes close, lips part, panting. Fuck, this was good! He tugged harder at the man's balls, pushed back more forcefully, and heard a gasp from behind him, felt the cock twitching in climax.

Guy glanced behind him, hand still tight, hoping to see the man losing control. Green eyes glared back at him; Hood was breathing fast but that was all.

"Untie me."

"Oh, we're not done yet." Guy let go, stood up. Looked round for inspiration; knew what he wanted, not quite how he wanted it. His eyes fell on the new turned earth and he remembered with something like incredulity his numb passivity of a short while ago.

He looked down at the flushed Hood, at the man's cock glistening limp. "Much as I hate to say it, you were right. This is a game and I had stopped playing. Sleepwalking my way to Isabella's revenge."

He smiled. He would have been almost grateful if other, stronger emotions weren't in control. "But you've woken me up. I'm in the game again now. And it's my move."

"So make it." Challenge in Hood's voice. The man still had balls, at least, for all that Guy had been the one holding them.

The largest of the willows had a wide branch that ran flat for a while three foot from the ground. That did very nicely. It turned out that Hood liked it rough. The pounding Guy was giving him could not possibly fail to hurt, but the curses from the face down man sounded more like encouragement than anything else. Guy shouldn't have been surprised; this had all started from Hood's response to a sword at his throat. There was a streak of perversion a mile wide in Robin of Locksley.

When this became clear, Guy eased off, mainly for the relief of his own bruised cock. He dropped instead into a smoother, slower rhythm. Fingers, still tender from the spade, clamped round the bone and skin of Hood's hips as he watched the brown hair caught in the sweat of the back of the man's neck, the shoulder muscles pulled into relief by the arms twisted backwards. He knew that he could keep this up for a long time, and he fully intended to. Hood's bound hands were curled tight, nails driving into the palms. The outlaw had given up on trying to sound in control; he was panting desperately, swearing, cursing Guy with vigour. This particular ex-nobleman had clearly been born to his high estate for the sole purpose of being fucked up the arse, and it was equally clear that Guy was the one destined to do it.

Not done once yet and Guy already wanted to do it again. This was nothing to do with desiring men; this was every sodding heartbeat of their history, made flesh. Guy was near silent as he moved, his deepening gasps for breath the only counterpoint to Hood's curses and whimpers. He had no impulse to taunt or threaten the man; everything that he might want to say was being said for him by this remorseless, irresistible penetration. Sensation finally peaked despite his attempts at control; he thrust deep, kept the man impaled for a long, long moment of sheer delirium, pulled away.

When Guy could move again, he picked up the discarded knife, just as Hood stood up slowly and turned round. They looked at each other, wary, a little wide eyed. Then Guy reached out, rested the point of the knife at the base of Hood's throat, against the smear of dried blood.

"Dying grateful?"

"Do it then." Guy glanced down, saw the man was half erect again.

"Now who's got a death wish?" He laughed, pulled the knife back, turned Hood around and cut through the cord around his wrists.

Hood turned back, cautious. "Why?"

"Because I'll be done with Isabella soon. I have it on good authority that trying to play chess on your own is no damn fun."

Hood nodded, very slightly. He walked over to his clothes, started dressing. Looked back. "Where will you go now? Not Nottingham, not Locksley."

Guy shrugged. "I'll find somewhere." He crouched down to sort through the piles of fabric and leather that were his discarded garments.

Clothed, Hood was all strut and confidence again. "I won't have you wandering my forest at will. I intend to keep an eye on you. And you need my help with your sister. There's a bed at camp."

"Yours?" Guy was amused at the thought.

"No. And you'll behave when you're there. No causing trouble with the gang, and don't think we're doing this again."

Guy had rather come round to the idea of not behaving. He'd do what he pleased. An image of the outlaw staked out and spreadeagled naked in the centre of his own camp, his ragtags as audience, came to mind. Isabella first, though. Keep Hood quiet for now.

"There's plenty of forest. If I happen to want your arse this knife says I'll take it, but we can keep this private."

Did Hood know how much his eyes gave away? That arrangement was clearly to his liking, for all that Guy knew the man would never admit as much. The outlaw picked up his weapons, seeming all business. "Follow me. Betray us and I'll finish the job that Isabella started."

He wouldn't. Not now. Guy smiled to himself, walked away from the lake and the turned earth. Into the deep woods that, for the moment, it would suit him well enough to call home.


End file.
